


You and I Were Fireworks

by SuperSaiyanHollow



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fireworks, Fluff, Fourth of July, Honeymoon, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Marriage, Post-Canon, Side pairings of Anathema/Newton and Tracy/Shadwell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 18:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19481728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSaiyanHollow/pseuds/SuperSaiyanHollow
Summary: The Them persuade Aziraphale and Crowley to spend their honeymoon in America, but it's the Fourth of July and Crowley doesn't know what fireworks are.





	You and I Were Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! It's been a while since I've written anything, but I've come back ready to go and obsessed with an entirely new fandom. Good Omens hit me like a bus and I've been dying to write something for the ineffable husbands ever since I finished the series. This is the first original fic I've written in a while! Not a commission and not a gift fic, though I do still have a few of those piled up lmfao. This was a nice little break for me and a great way to get back into my writing groove after my first year of college utterly drained me. Hopefully, I'll have more works out this summer for Good Omens and my other usual fandoms, but for now, here's this sweet little fic :)
> 
> This idea came to me while I was watching fireworks last weekend, and it wouldn't leave me alone! I knew I had to have it done in time for the fourth, so here it is! It hasn't gone through my usual thorough proof-reading yet, but I'll probably come back to edit it later. This fic is super self-indulgent and sickeningly sweet, so you've been warned! 
> 
> Normally, this is the part where I plug my Tumblr, but after the whole NSFW ban that happened, I've decided to pretty much abandon my blog. It's still there if you'd like to browse it, and I may return to it at some point in the future, but for now it's pretty inactive. Same goes for my writing blog as well. I can be found at yaoiobessedwrites and supahimagery respectively. 
> 
> If you'd like to keep up with me now, please follow my new Twitter which is @SSHollow13! 
> 
> I am still accepting requests on my Twitter as long as they are under 1,000 words. For anything larger, please check out the pinned tweet on my profile or send me an email at superimageryyy@gmail.com. If you have any questions about my writing or want to see something specific, email me at the previous address or send me a message on Twitter. I promise I don't bite! 
> 
> Let's get this show on the road~!
> 
> Disclaimer: I in no way own Good Omens nor do I own any of its characters.

“Angel, are all these books really necessary?” Crowley asked incredulously as he flipped open the suitcase lying on the couch only to find it already almost filled. 

Aziraphale didn’t bat an eyelash, continuing to finger through the spines of his collection, looking for even more reading material to take with them. “Just as necessary as your various outfits, my dear.” 

Crowley snorted rather uncouthly. “I’m sorry I haven’t been wearing the same outfit since the 1800s.” 

“I like what I like,” Aziraphale responded unperturbed by Crowley’s teasing. 

“And I like to change it up every now and then.” He eyed the suitcase, trying to figure out how he could cram another outfit in between the books. 

Aziraphale bristled when he thumbed over a classic of Oscar Wilde’s, one he couldn’t live without. Happily, he brought the book over to the suitcase, his hip brushing up against Crowley. He sat it down atop the others, a faint “perfect” escaping his lips. 

He grinned up at Crowley and went to pinch his cheek. “Well, that’s just one of the qualities I like about you, darling.” 

A light pink hue spread across Crowley’s cheeks and he turned his head away from Aziraphale, focusing on the task at hand instead of that adorable look on the angel’s face. 

For the first time in their 6,000 years of knowing each other, the two of them were going on a vacation. After the Armageddon That Wasn’t, their lives had very gradually begun to change. From the moment that Crowley had invited Aziraphale to his flat, the two of them realized that they were, at last, free. No one was watching over them, observing their every move, and keeping score. Both Heaven and Hell had been duped by their little body swap, agreeing to leave the two of them alone on Earth for what they hoped would be forever. They were on their own side now, and that nagging tension that had always permeated the air when they were around the other had slowly dissipated until it had vanished completely. No more wondering about right or wrong. No more internal turmoil whenever one of them initiated a touch that lingered for just a second too long. No more guilt simmering in their guts when they enjoyed being in the other’s presence, blissfully disregarding any of their actual responsibilities. 

With that insurmountable tension finally lifted, they found that all that was left was a deep sense of longing and adoration. Really, it was only a matter of time before Aziraphale slipped up and spilled his heart out to Crowley after their fourth night spent languidly and happily lounging on Aziraphale’s couch. One moment he had been recounting their earlier dinner at the exquisite French restaurant right around the corner, going into vivid detail about how all the flavors had mixed so wonderfully, when his rambling had suddenly turned to how  _ exquisite  _ Crowley had looked across the table bathed in the warm light of the candle in the center of it, a soft smile tugging at his lips while he listened to Aziraphale prattle on and on. 

“I mean the food was scrumptious, but then I was able to look up and see your beautiful eyes from the light of the candle, and my dear it truly was dinner and a show. I’ve absolutely enjoyed being able to spend as much time as I please with you...It feels like such a relief to have you by my side after all these years…” And his eyes had flickered up at Crowley, who had slowly sat up from his sprawled position and gingerly raised his glasses as Aziraphale continued, those captivating baby blues seeming to peer into what was left of his tattered soul and delight in the mess he found. “You never cease to amaze me, Crowley. I do believe it’s why I love you so much.” 

Something in Crowley’s chest then began to ache and become taut, his normally slit pupils dilating from the warmth in Aziraphale’s voice. The tips of his wings gave an invisible curl, a shudder coursing its way down his spine, a millennia in the waiting. 

“The feeling is...I want…” Crowley awkwardly cleared his throat, pink blossoming over the bridge of his nose, slowly spreading across his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “I uh...I love you too, angel.” He didn’t care to tack on the “for quite some time now” as he felt it was an unspoken truth between them, one that could be rightfully discussed and processed at another time. 

In essence, nothing about their relationship had changed after their confessions. It had felt like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders and they were free to simply  _ be _ . The only thing that was different between them was the fact that they were much more affectionate with one another: cuddling, holding hands, kissing, and the occasional romp in the sheets. Aziraphale soon found out that Crowley was the most touch-starved being on this planet and he worked to gradually remedy that every day. They were able to be connected at any given moment whether it was a touch here or a brush there, each one always sending tingles along their skin. They both became addicted to the other’s touch, craving it in small doses throughout the day before relenting to their ridiculous desire to be tangled up at the end of it when they laid down for bed (Aziraphale found it much easier to indulge in sleep when Crowley was beside him as peaceful as could be). 

This had continued for a few weeks, and it was only around an entire month of them being together that Crowley realized he hadn’t been to his flat even once since the night they had confessed to one another. Not wanting to bother commuting back and forth, wasting precious time he could be spending with his beloved, and knowing that the bookshop meant far more to Aziraphale than his little flat meant to him, Crowley moved into A. Z. Fell & Co. shortly after his epiphany. Aziraphale had questioned how Crowley’s magnificent houseplants had lasted after a month without any water to which Crowley had shrugged and mumbled something about the plants not wanting to disappoint him. 

A month together quickly turned into two and then three. The two of them had been fine taking things slow now that they had all of eternity to spend with one another, but that had all changed when they went to visit the Them one muggy afternoon. Hardly a week went by when they didn’t check in on young Adam and his friends (or stop by Anathema’s and Newton’s cottage for a nice chat or even joined Madame Tracy and Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell for tea). It had started off with them wanting to make sure that Adam was well and not planning to destroy the world again after all, though they soon began to look forward to their little playdates with the children, catching up on all the hottest Earthly gossip and trends and taking part in the wackiest games that their wild little imaginations could conjure up. But on this particular day, the Them had been rightly curious about something. 

“So, when are you getting married?” Brian had asked oh so elegantly as the six of them had sat in their makeshift den in Hogback Wood. 

While Aziraphale sputtered and Crowley turned every imaginable shade of red, the Them only stared, awaiting the answer to Brian’s question. When it didn’t come and the two supernatural beings before them just continued to stammer and tumble over their own tongues, the Them pressed forward. 

“Anathema and Newton have already tied the knot,” Wensleydale remarked. 

“So have Madame Tracy and Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell,” Pepper added. 

Aziraphale and Crowley were very aware of these facts seeing as the six of them had attended each ceremony. Anathema and Newton had dived headfirst into marriage just a mere week after the Almost Apocalypse, just as Aziraphale and Crowley were beginning to understand their feelings for each other. Madame Tracy and Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell had also miraculously (though it wasn’t Aziraphale’s or Crowley’s fault at all) decided to get hitched two months after Armageddidn’t just as Aziraphale and Crowley were getting accustomed to living together. They could tell from the way things were going that it was no wonder the Them expected them to do the same eventually. But, children are impatient and while the angel and demon could have waited another six millennia before even  _ thinking  _ about marriage it seemed their fate was being determined for them. 

“Yes, it would be nice for you to be married, wouldn’t it?” Adam had chimed in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and a part of them wondered if the Antichrist had willed them to do his bidding as their wedding was planned and executed only a month later. 

Honestly, marriage wasn’t such a far-fetched idea for them. They had known each other for 6,000 years, and even though they had only been officially dating and living together for a few months, marriage inevitably seemed like the next step for them to take, the natural progression of a relationship. The idea of being wed to one another for the rest of eternity, a stark symbol of their claim to one another, certainly appealed to them both. The ceremony was rather simple and plain, but it was all they needed. They had it practically in Anathema’s and Newton’s backyard, a lovely white wedding arch nestled among the trees and tall grass. And as a nod to them being on their own side, Aziraphale had worn a black suit while Crowley had adorned a white one. Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell presided over the wedding as he had become an ordained minister just for the occasion. The Them were all ring-bearers has Adam and Brian brought forth Crowley’s silver ring that had tiny angel wings engraved on it while Pepper and Wensleydale brought Aziraphale’s matching silver ring to him that was shaped like a serpent with two small ruby eyes. 

“I now pronounce ye husband and husband. You lads may now kiss.”

And what a kiss it was. One they would cherish for the rest of their lives. 

But of course, the Them weren’t quite yet satisfied even after the two of them were wedded. 

“So, where are you going for your honeymoon?” Brian asked.

“Anathema and Newton stayed in France and Madame Tracy and Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell visited Germany,” Wensleydale had informed them. 

“I hear South Africa is nice,” Pepper commented. 

Adam’s lips curled to one side. “I’ve always wanted to visit the States.”

The mention of America had excited the Them as they all began frantically listing off facts they had heard about the country, totally enraptured with the idea of Aziraphale and Crowley honeymooning there. 

This time, they didn’t even try to fight it, allowing the children to persuade them into just that. 

“Not a book more, angel, I mean it,” Crowley huffed as he managed to wrangle the suitcase shut even though it looked ready to burst at any moment. 

Aziraphale pouted pathetically, but Crowley would be lying if he thought it didn’t affect him in the slightest. “Oh please, Crowley, just one more? It’s an American classic!” He held out the book in question: The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. “It’ll fit in your carry-on!”

Crowley sputtered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “My—Angel, you have got to be..!” The rest of his sentence was mumbled through gritted teeth before he reached out to snatch the book from Aziraphale. “Fine,” he relented much to Aziraphale’s joy. 

Once Aziraphale had packed all of his literature and Crowley had taken care of the essentials, they were off to the airport in the Bently as it would be a waste of a miracle to just pop into New York City and flying was a part of the human experience that they had admittedly done very little of. In fact, they hadn’t been to America since before the Revolution. Perhaps Heaven and Hell had other agents working there or maybe, as the two of them had speculated for quite some time, America had enough on its plate already with the whole formation of a country, united not just in name anymore, that any miracles (holy or otherwise) weren’t needed. America danced to its own tune, a child among the countries of old that was just beginning to understand who it was and what it stood for. Aziraphale had always admired the Constitution and the principles it put into place; however, he only wished that America would actually adhere and stick to the document, but humans always had a funny way of mucking something up. Maybe it truly would be the land of the free someday as long as that was a part of God’s Ineffable Plan. 

For now, the two of them would be able to relish in how much the country had changed since the 1700s. It was a nice escape from their life in London, just different enough to be worth going but not totally foreign. They had settled for New York City as the Them had been particularly adamant about it, their eyes lighting up at the thought of Aziraphale and Crowley heading off to “the Big Apple”. Of course, they had all begged for the couple to bring them back souvenirs, little trinkets they could admire forevermore, and neither of them could actually bear the thought of telling them no. Besides, New York City had a lot of history and charm. There was to be plenty of good food, music, books, fashion, and wine. Lots and lots of wine. They were both eager as they boarded the plane, and Aziraphale contemplated everything they would do and see for the next week for the first hour of their trip. 

The rest of the eight hour long flight was filled with conversation and the two of them bickering about what to watch together until Crowley ended up nodding off, resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale bristled in delight, nudging his reading glasses back up his nose as he read through one of the many books he had bought along. When they finally landed it was early in the morning in New York City and while the five hour time difference wasn’t unbearable they still preferred to miracle away their jet-lag, not wanting it to ruin their honeymoon. 

In the spirit of human tradition, they had decided to splurge for their honeymoon, though miracling the reservation and funds for a week-long stay at the Grand Penthouse at the Mark Hotel wasn’t really putting any strain on their pockets. Adam was insistent that they should only enjoy the best the city had to offer while they were away or it really wouldn’t be a treasured memory; Aziraphale did try to correct the boy by telling him that any time spent with Crowley was treasured time, but his comment only made the Them break out into fake gagging, which garnered a hearty laugh from Crowley. So, after dropping their bags off at the penthouse that was far more luxurious than either of them had even imagined, they were off exploring the city and all its wonders. 

They fondly recalled how much of the city used to be undisturbed forest with a sprinkling of villages before it exploded thanks to the ports. But, they had not been prepared for the sheer magnificence of the towering skyscrapers nor how crowded the streets were. While London was much more homey and comfortable, New York was bustling and chaotic. Crowley was thoroughly absorbing the frustration and bitterness swirling around the streets especially when they reached Times Square. However, Aziraphale was somewhat out of his element and latched onto Crowley’s hand like a life-preserver in the vast ocean. Crowley noticed how tightly Aziraphale was squeezing his hand and how quiet he had become. He took a moment to twirl around and eye the many shop fronts around them. When he finally found what he was searching for he dragged Aziraphale down the street with him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze back. 

Crowley entered a quiet little store and a tinny bell rung out upon the door opening. Aziraphale peeked around his husband and gasped under his breath when he saw that Crowley had found an old little bookshop nestled among the bright and flashy stores. Crowley grinned to himself as Aziraphale at last released his hand and stepped forward to begin trifling through the shelves, admiring the collection they had. It was then that Crowley also noticed a small cafe in the corner of the shop, and he ordered two cups of tea before sitting down at one of the tables. He sipped happily at his own cup while watching Aziraphale flutter about the bookshelves, his gaze denoting nothing but pure unadulterated love. Aziraphale eventually joined him to drink his own cup of tea, bringing a stack of books along with him to peruse. 

Once Aziraphale had calmed down and bought even more books that Crowley would have to find room for in their luggage, they headed back out into the city. They spent the rest of the day browsing different shops and getting a lay of the land. There were souvenirs galore, so they easily found little knick knacks for each of the children, Anathema, Newton, Madame Tracy, and Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell. They stopped for lunch at a rather fancy-looking establishment, and while the Americans certainly had a very different palate than the Europeans, Aziraphale found the food wonderful all the same. They split a bottle of Chardonnay, careful not to get too drunk while the sun was still up. In the afternoon, they came across a record shop that Crowley fawned over, pulling out Queen and The Velvet Underground vinyls to show to Aziraphale. Of course, they bought them. 

Their arms loaded with shopping bags, they made a quick stop at the penthouse to drop them before taking a little stroll through Central Park, which the penthouse overlooked. Central Park was much bigger than St. James’s Park, though they both served as little oases in the midst of the hustle of the city. There were plenty of ducks much to Crowley’s chagrin, and they wondered if these ducks had a hankering for Russian bread as well. Certain areas of the park were rather packed, but the farther they traveled down the path, the less crowded it got and the more at ease they both felt. They chattered on about this and that as they walked, hands clasped together. Just as the sun was starting to set, Crowley halted, and Aziraphale raised a brow at him. 

Crowley turned to look over his shoulder at his husband. “Can I tempt you into having some dinner with me, angel?” His smile widened and he looked over the rim of his glasses. “And  _ copious  _ amounts of alcohol?” 

Aziraphale giggled, his shoulders doing that little wiggle that Crowley adored. “Yes, yes you may, my dear.” 

Tired from the long day they had had, they opted to order room service up to the penthouse and indulge in the comfort and silence the room offered them. They ordered enough bottles of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir for a small party, their lively and intelligent conversation growing more and more wily as they drank. They enjoyed themselves for a while, but decided to sober up before bed, not wanting to deal with the hang-over in the morning. It was getting late, and Crowley was already beginning to yawn with every other sentence, so Aziraphale ushered him to bed in the master bedroom. Crowley was out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow, and Aziraphale lovingly tucked him in, making sure to set his glasses down on the nightstand next to him. 

And while normally he would have sat down next to Crowley and read as his husband slept, Aziraphale chose to clean up a little since he didn’t have Crowley to distract him. He put away the wine bottles and set the glasses in the dishwasher. He left the dishes on the table for room service to get and then he went to unbag all the gifts, books, and records they had purchased. He spent a few moments admiring each item, imagining how happy the others would be to receive such trinkets when they got back home. 

In the midst of his cleaning, Aziraphale suddenly heard obnoxiously loud explosions like numerous cannons were being shot off right outside the penthouse. It startled Aziraphale, causing him to stiffen, but after the louder than life bursts had dissipated, the faint crackling he heard set his mind at ease. He glanced out the window of the dining room and marveled at how lit up the night sky was from the barrage of fireworks the Americans were unleashing. Setting down one of his new books, he slowly stood and made his way to the window to watch the show, a tender smile spreading across his face at the celebration. Though a little bit away, Aziraphale could definitely make out a few barges floating in the East River that were shooting off fireworks for the whole city to enjoy. There was barely any break in between them, a cacophony of rockets whizzing through the sky before bursting in a brilliant show of light. He noticed that most of the sparks were a combination of red, white, and blue and that’s when it dawned on him. 

“Of course,” he muttered to himself as he was continuously bathed in the glow of the fireworks from the window, “It’s the fourth of July, isn’t it?” 

Ah yes, it was just like the Americans to celebrate their independence in such a flashy and child-like display, a true representation of how young of a country they still were. But even so, Aziraphale was absolutely mesmerized by the light show, a very special occasion seeing as there really wasn’t anything like it in England and he could count on one hand how many times he had seen fireworks in his impressive span of life. A brief thought entered his mind: had this been Adam’s intention all along? Crowley and Aziraphale hadn’t even realized how significant the fourth was to the Americans, but perhaps Adam had swayed them to choose the States for this very reason. It was all speculation, though he wouldn’t put it past the boy. 

The penthouse had an expansive terrace, and Aziraphale thought the view from it would be much better than the view from the dining room window. He would attempt to wake Crowley up in a minute, but for now, he wanted to admire the fireworks himself and let the sentimentality of it all sink in. However, as he was making his way down the hall towards the terrace entrance, a shriek met his ears that had the hairs on the back of his neck rising up. 

“Aziraphale!” 

“Crowley..?” 

Aziraphale turned around as he recognized his husband’s voice though it was soaked in desperation and urgency. He went to rush back to the master bedroom, but the door came swinging out as a clearly disheveled Crowley emerged from the room. His eyes were as wide as saucers, the yellow of his irises glowing in the dim light of the hall. His entire frame seemed to be shaking, and Aziraphale hadn’t seen Crowley this torn up since the day that was supposed to be the end of the world. Aziraphale was about to call out to him when another explosion of fireworks echoed throughout the penthouse like bombs going off. He watched Crowley flinch, his body whipping around and his big eyes landing on his husband. 

_ “Aziraphale!”  _ he shouted again, the look on his face causing a pit to form in Aziraphale’s gut. 

“Crowley, darling—” 

But, Aziraphale never got to finish his sentence as Crowley charged at him, swiftly ensnaring him in a tight embrace. Aziraphale huffed and looked up from Crowley’s heaving chest to see him about to snap his fingers, the bright blue light from the fireworks outside reflecting off his skin. 

“We’ve got to get back to Adam! Armageddon is—”

Aziraphale squirmed and managed to free his arm from Crowley’s grasp, grabbing at Crowley’s wrist to stop him from performing his own little miracle. 

“Crowley, stop!” Aziraphale yelled firmly, fixing Crowley with a worried yet stern look. “It isn’t Armageddon I promise you!”

Aziraphale’s words seemed to get through to him as the tension left his body and he practically slumped against his husband. His fingers fell from their position, no longer poised to transport them back to Tadfield. Crowley’s brows furrowed as the corners of his mouth stretched with disdain. His yellow eyes shifted, almost begging Aziraphale to explain what was going on. It took a moment for Aziraphale to compose himself as well, his heart hammering in his chest as Crowley had given him quite the scare. Another thunderous bang resonated outside as more fireworks fizzled in the night sky, and Crowley let out the tiniest whimper, holding onto Aziraphale for dear life. 

Aziraphale couldn’t help but coo as he raised his hand to cup Crowley’s cheek, forcing those eyes to stare at him instead of the dazzling performance going on in the city. He saw Crowley’s lips quiver, so he brushed the pad of his thumb over the corner of his mouth to steady him. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. The world isn’t ending. It’s just the fourth of July, Independence Day for the Americans. They celebrate it with a fireworks show.”

“Fireworks?” Crowley whispered in between them, his hot breath ghosting over Aziraphale’s face. 

Realization dawned on him. Crowley had never seen fireworks and the momentous noise of it all had no doubt startled him awake. He supposed the explosions  _ did  _ sound awful dreadful as if the ground were splitting right out from under them. 

He leaned forward to place a kiss to Crowley’s other cheek, hoping his affection would put his husband back at ease. “A firework is a little device the humans invented. It’s filled with gunpowder and chemicals, so that when it’s ignited, it flies up into the sky and bursts in a colorful display of sparks. It’s completely harmless I assure you and very pretty to look at.” 

Crowley gulped which was the only indication that he had been listening at all. He still held onto Aziraphale as if he didn’t trust his own legs to hold him upright. Aziraphale continued to stroke his cheek, taking deep breaths himself in hopes that Crowley would begin to mimic them. Although, after a moment filled with more excited whizzing and bangs, Crowley’s eyes finally settled back onto him, still wide and fearful. He seemed at a loss for words as his lips attempted to move but no sound came out. Aziraphale waited patiently for Crowley to find whatever he was trying to say. When he did speak it was very soft and hoarse; the scream he had emitted earlier had sounded like it ripped from his throat. 

“I thought...I was sure...Aziraphale, I didn’t want to lose you  _ again _ . Not now, not after everything we’ve—”

As Crowley spoke, Aziraphale had watched little translucent tears well up in the corners of his eyes, glossing them over. He ended up choking on a sob, his grip tightening on Aziraphale as the adrenaline rushed out of his body only to be replaced by the true emotion he had felt when he jolted awake to what sounded like Armageddon. His whole body quaked as the tears streamed down his cheeks, pooling under his chin. The scene before him broke Aziraphale’s heart, but he knew he could fix it. 

He shushed Crowley and brought him down, so that he could bury his face in the crook of his neck. “Awe, my dear, I’m so sorry you had to experience that horrible feeling all over again. I know it must have been awfully frightening. There, there...Let it all out…”

Aziraphale continued to whisper sweet nothings into Crowley’s ear as he cried into his shoulder. He rubbed Crowley’s back in soft and soothing circles, Crowley’s sniffling covering up the repeated booms of the fireworks. He allowed Crowley a moment to let his tears fall before a wonderful idea came to mind. With a sharp inhale, Aziraphale crouched down and wrapped his free arm under Crowley’s knees, hoisting him up into his arms in one fell swoop. He adjusted Crowley and then nuzzled their heads together as he started walking back in the direction of the terrace entrance, the explosions growing impossibly louder the closer they got. 

Crowley trembled from the noise, but Aziraphale reassured him: “I’ve got you, my darling boy. Nothing’s going to hurt us, I swear.” 

The best way to overcome a fear in Aziraphale’s opinion was exposure to it, and so he carried Crowley outside onto the terrace, the cool night air blowing lightly through their locks. He closed the door behind him with his foot, then went to take a seat on one of the white couches, Crowley curled up in his lap, content to stay right where he was. Aziraphale threaded his fingers through Crowley’s hair to relax him as the fireworks were much more intense on the terrace than they had been in the penthouse. The sky was alight with red, white, and blue, and it didn’t seem like the Americans were going to stop the show any time soon. 

For a while, Crowley simply cowered in his lap, struggling to breathe properly, but after some coddling and butterfly kisses, Crowley grew used to the explosions and crackling. Slowly, he turned his head out from Aziraphale’s body in order to watch the sparks dance in the sky like shining stars. Aziraphale watched as Crowley’s face gradually became softer the longer he marveled at the fireworks, his captivated expression engulfed in various colors. 

“They are pretty…,” he whispered almost as if to convince himself of his own words. 

Aziraphale hummed in agreement. “They are indeed pretty, but not as pretty as you, Crowley.” He couldn’t help but tease the other just a little, loving the blush that always ensued on his cheeks. 

Silence fell back over them as the fireworks sparkled overhead.

“Crowley, I hope you know that I, unfortunately, won’t ever be leaving your side again. You’re stuck with me for the rest of eternity, and I won’t let anything come between us. Not Heaven or Hell. Not the end of the world and certainly not some noisy American fireworks.” 

His last remark earned him a little chuckle from the other. 

“I know, angel, I know…” 

But, just to make sure he  _ knew _ , Aziraphale leaned down to press a tender kiss to his soft lips just as another shower of fireworks lit up the night sky. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this little fic of mine! This is my first time writing for this fandom and these two idiots in love, so please let me know how I did down below! I would also like to point out that I have never been to New York City or England, so my knowledge is limited to whatever I could find online. I also don't drink, so any wine names were researched as well! Overall, I'm happy with where this little plot bunny of mine took me, and I hope it brightened someone else's day too. 
> 
> Happy Fourth of July, my fellow Americans, and I hope all my foreign friends had a lovely day as well! <3
> 
> Of course, if you'd like to see something similar to this work or if you'd like to see me write another Good Omens fic sooner, remember to check out my Twitter (@SSHollw13) or email me at superimageryyy@gmail.com!
> 
> My writing requests are still open on Twitter! I will write 1,000 words and under for a request! If you'd like something longer, please check out the rules on the pinned tweet on my profile!
> 
> My main Tumblr was yaoiobsessedwrites and my writing Tumblr was superimagery. 
> 
> I do have a FanFiction account as well. It's under the same penname. Some of the fics on there are pretty old though, so here's your warning!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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